


between the scenes

by iamsolarflare, xxenobiology



Series: 77-2 AU [3]
Category: Hermitcraft
Genre: Area 77, Gen, General Spooky Elements, Supernatural Elements, Tag wranglers stop tagging Hermitcraft as RPF challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29322066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamsolarflare/pseuds/iamsolarflare, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxenobiology/pseuds/xxenobiology
Summary: In which Cub takes a breather, the Hermits In Black visit Falsewell, and Kakujo leaves a note for someone to read.
Relationships: None
Series: 77-2 AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014771
Kudos: 1





	1. a brief aside (2.16)

**Author's Note:**

> hulloa, solar here! these minifics have been backdated to match their original publishing date on Tumblr - originally i was going to post them one by one, but i don't have separate original dates of writing for them. there are three minifics in this collection, with the longer one separated into three parts in order to keep consistent formatting. speaking of formatting, PLEASE don't hide Style; the different font uses are integral to this series.
> 
> if you want to read the rest of the AU and don't want to wait for me to post the rest of it, or you want to read each fic as one long Google document, you can find all current works on Tumblr under my blog @betweenlands. that's also one of two places you can go if you want to yell about it (my co-author, meanwhile, is @cheshire-vex).
> 
> original "featuring" section below.  
> \---  
> featuring: cub makes a mistake, a friendly psa from the town of falsewell, your reliable narrators, the growing knowledge that something is terribly wrong with this place, splitting the party, gun
> 
> content warnings for the 77-2 universe: mild to moderate psychic manipulation (specifically erasure of memories), guns.

Format - hidden camera near one of Cub’s encampments in Area 77; synced manually to recording device hidden elsewhere.

Cub walks into the camp with a sigh, removing the binoculars from his neck and setting them down on a shulker box. It’s late, and all he wants is for all this chaos to be over.

The campground’s quiet, no alarms going off. Just the peace of the evening sounds of the woods and the crackling of the woodfire in front of him.

And someone humming softly, calmly.

He freezes, staring at the fire and then looking around the camp, searching for any sign of an intruder.

There is, of course, no intruder, no trespasser of any sort. None of his failsafes have been tripped, nothing pinged or set off or anything of the kind.

If it weren’t for the figure sitting directly across from him, obscured from view by the flickering shadows the flames cast, he would be completely alone.

Cub looks at the figure, silent, thinking.

“Who are you?”

The figure shrugs.

**_Pointless_ ** question, Mister Cub. I’m not going to tell you **_that._**

“You’re in _my_ camp, I’m owed some kind of explanation.”

Ah, but you didn’t **_ask_** for an explanation, you asked who I **_am_**. Those are two very different things.

You’ve been keeping busy, haven’t you? A **_lot_ ** more under-the-table dealings than one would think, looking at you.

The figure steeples their fingers, firelight glinting off their eyes.

“What I surround myself with and what I work with are none of your business.”

I don’t know about that. I quite think they **_are_ ** my business.

They lean forward, a smug smile on their face as something… _odd_ happens. A slight chug in the way the flames move, one tick too slow.

You’re getting a **_bit_ ** too close for comfort, you know? We’re really supposed to be pacing this out a little slower, but you keep going like this…

Well, there **_will_** be chaos either way, but I’d **_rather_** your particular brand happen a little later down the line. Still players to be introduced to the game, after all.

“I’m not _causing_ any chaos. I am keeping tabs on those who are part of my group and my company. I am making sure this place doesn’t end up causing _havoc_ inevitably. I don’t know _who_ or _what_ you think you are, but you do not have any authority over me,” Cub challenges, stepping closer to the fire. It reflects blue in his eyes, not orange.

Mmh, the other one **_was_ ** right. You don't recognize me at **_all._ **

The figure claps their hands once, sharply, and the ground beneath Cub's feet begins to stir, bony hands locking tight around his ankles.

**_Hold him_ **, please.

I think you've quite **_misjudged_ ** the position you bargain from, Mister Cub. I am not a player in this game. I am the **_narrator_ **.

And it is my job to, if I see fit, throw a **_wrench_ ** in the works to keep things from happening too fast.

Cub grimaces at the bones keeping him there. He tries to move his feet, judge just how much force it would take to get out.

“I’m not just some _pawn_. You can throw whatever you want my way, but I’m not just going to take it lying down.”

The figure - the _narrator_ \- grins.

That's certainly going to come in handy for the days up **_ahead,_ ** but as of right now -

Oh, I am just being **_rude._ ** How long have you been standing there?

Not long. Just got here, myself.⠀

The second voice - one _far_ more familiar than the first - rings out from somewhere behind Cub, the person it belongs to also hidden somewhere in the darkness.

Cub _recognizes_ that voice. He turns his head over his shoulder, trying to make out the form-

“ ?”

The name catches in the air.

Oof, careful now Cub.⠀

We can't have you just blurting out names like that. It's just like my partner here was telling you. Too ahead of the game for your own good.⠀

He's going to have to forget this entire conversation… what a **_waste._ **

He tenses up at that.

“A _waste_ ? _Forget?_ Are you kidding me?! Are you both - _you_ especially - are you both really going to mess around with people’s _lives_ like this!? Do you realize what’s at stake here?”

Believe it or not, yes. I do.⠀

This timeline - all of this, from the moment there was a second anomaly, a 77-2 - shouldn't really… exist.⠀

My… ah, partner isn't quite the word after all. My _co-conspirator_ and I are simply trying to do damage control.⠀

There you have it, Mister Cub.

“And what do you think _I’ve_ been doing!? I’m trying to keep this place from absolutely destroying the rest of the server! I don’t _want_ to keep up this chaos, it’s going to get someone killed! But the both of you are out here acting like I’m some kind of source to this problem; I’m not!”

Ah, yes. Which would be why you hacked the control tower, set several planes on fire, sent in a flight of war drones, and broke in on your own.

The **_epitome_ ** of someone who isn't causing problems, **_really._ **

Cub, listen. We've got our issues with the way Area 77's handling some things, too.⠀

But… you're not at the point where your interference helps any. Not yet.⠀

The audience can't keep track of this much at once, after all. Which reminds me…

⠀...Yes, I'll do it.⠀

“ _No_ you won’t. , hear me out just _once_ _!_ Please!”

The second person sighs quietly, shuffling in place.

Real sorry about this, Cub, truly I am.⠀

But we’ve all got to do things we don’t want to, sometimes.⠀

There's a soft noise as the figure behind Cub taps one foot against the ground, not quite hard enough to be considered stomping.

You just sleep tight now.⠀

Feed ends.⠀


	2. don't mess with falsewell. (2.17.1)

Iskall cleans his scope.

It’s a clear night, moon’s shining high overhead, a crescent hanging in the sky. He polishes the scope off on the inside of his suit again, keeps fiddling with the calibrations. Normally, he’d have spawned some phantoms by now, but the dregs of his own personal…  _ cocktail… _ are keeping that at bay well enough.

His earpiece crackles to life, static and then clear, bright sound -

“We’ve got movement on west-side. Finishing stuff up on my end. I’ll be up soon.”

Iskall turns towards the west end of the town - right where the gates to Area 77 lie - and lets his eye augment dial in, turning up the night vision and tracking the movement of the figures with clarity.

He grins, cocking his head to the side and pressing the talk button with his shoulder. “You were right, we’ve got two men from the government. You gonna let Cleo know she should stay inside the museum, or…?” 

“I’ll let her know. Though considering last time she already knew…”

“I have a radio of my own, you idiots,” Cleo pipes up. Her voice is clear, minus the strange humming noise in the background.

“Guessed as much,” Iskall says, reattaching the scope. “Falsie, you ready to have a little fun with our boys in black?”

“As always. You want me on the ground or up top?” False asked.

“Which one of us is the mayor of this fine town?”

“Okay, I gotcha, was just an offer.” There’s soft static as she switches from her handheld radio to her earpiece. “I’ll approach nicely first. We’ll see how it goes.”

He tries to keep his grin from spreading even wider as he watches the two men approach, because this - oh, this will be a  _ blast _ .


	3. don't mess with falsewell. (2.17.2)

Format - feed from satellite posted over Falsewell, manually synced to hidden recording device near mayor’s house.

Two men dressed in black suits - Doc and Scar - approach, eyes hidden from view behind sunglasses.

Doc: -the chatter nice, okay? _I’m_ supposed to be the bad cop. Er, bad agent.

Scar: I got it, Doc.

False checks on the house once more before walking out and seeing the two.

False: Hey, hey. You guys can’t be out here dressed up as…

She pauses, then snickers.

False: Whatever _that_ ensemble is.

Doc: We’re from the government. Here about an incident with the hippies.

Scar: We just want to know if you’ve heard anything or seen anything strange about them, you know? Just some information.

False: I don’t have any, sorry.

Doc takes a step forward, looking down at his robotic arm as if it’s far more interesting than the conversation at hand.

Doc: So… the earthquake the other day, that was normal then?

False stares at him as he moves forward but holds her ground.

False: You know how weather and phenomena this close to Hermitville is. After all,

She gestures to Scar.

False: _One_ of you has a giant plant monster.

Scar: Scara has nothing to do with geological phenomena, I can assure you that.

Doc grins.

Doc: Nor do the hippies, and yet she seemed fairly confident in making that assumption, huh?

False: Doc, are you accusing me of something?

Doc: Oh, am I? You seem a little on-edge, accusing me of accusing you…

False: And you’ve gotta lot of nerve to be walking in here like you own the place. Now either fess up about what you’re looking for or turn around and _get out_ of my town.

Scar: Whoa, whoa, we’re not looking for anything in particular, False. We’re just concerned.

Doc: Yeah, we’re just trying to keep everyone safe, you don’t have to get so worked up.

False adjusts her stance and puts her hands in her pockets, discreetly turning the radio on.

False: I’m not worked up about anything, Doc. You’re making a lot of assumptions of your own aren’t you? I’m gonna repeat myself one more time- Explain yourselves, or get out.

Doc takes another step forward, grinning.

Doc: There’s a giant UFO back over that diner, and one of the hippies vanished shortly after entering town. You don’t think that’s suspicious?

False takes her free hand out of her pocket and holds her hand up.

False: Not a step closer. You don’t have a permit to be here. The UFO is decoration. Have you ever heard of a themed diner? They’re _quite_ popular, Doc. Not that you would know, I guess.

Doc: You’re lying.

Scar: Uh… Doc?

Scar is staring at his own chest, more specifically at a tiny red dot of light right over where his heart would be.

False: Back up, and leave. Do you _understand_ that, Doc?

Doc raises an eyebrow.

Doc: You know that’s not how laser sights work, right? It’s a cute trick, having someone with a laser pointer, but it’s not gonna work on us.

False: Oh, I know. Might wanna check where that’s comin’ from before you talk yourself into a hole.

The laser point trails down, leading everyone’s eyes slowly up to the top of the water tower, where a figure in a green suit stands.

Iskall: Good _evening_ , gentlemen! Isn’t it a little late to be wearing sunglasses?

Feed ends.


	4. don't mess with falsewell. (2.17.3)

Iskall leans against the railing of the water tower, twirling his now-discovered laser pointer in one hand as he braces himself with the other one.

“Long time no see, Doc, Scar. You’ve been busy, I take it?”

“Uh… yeah- busy… um- Iskall… what are you doing?” Scar asks, trying to keep his calm, though it’s  _ clearly _ not easy.

“ _ I’m _ ,” he says, gesturing towards the rifle next to him, “doing a job, just like you gentlemen. Only difference is, I get to have a little fun.”

Doc glares up at him, raising his robotic arm - heat sensors in Iskall’s eye indicate that it’s way too hot for a normal prosthetic - and doing that sort of generic-spooky-claw gesture.

“I don’t know if you noticed, Iskall, but there’s two of us and only one gun, and I can move pretty fast. Oh,  _ and _ obstruction of a government investigation is illegal.”

Iskall snickers. “Point one - you’re  _ not _ government, Doc. Only law that Falsewell follows is the mayor’s, and last I checked she’s not made any binding agreements with you gentlemen. Point two - I really only need to shoot  _ you _ , ‘coz dear Falsie seems to have taken care of your partner already.”

False grins, one hand holding Scar’s together tightly behind his back, the other keeping her glinting sword  _ dangerously _ close to his neck.

“I gave you warning, Doc. Now you’re gonna  _ listen _ to me, got it? You’re gonna take yourself and Scar and you’re gonna leave Falsewell. You’re  _ not _ gonna come back. Do I make myself  _ clear _ ?”

Doc’s lip curls up into a snarl, but it doesn’t take a genius at reading people to tell that he’s going over his options and realizing that none of them are particularly good ones.

“This isn’t over,” he mutters darkly, clenching his fists.

“Keep telling yourself that, Doc. Now,  _ get moving _ ,” she says, releasing Scar’s hands and pushing him towards Doc with a foot gently to his back.

Scar stumbles forward, flinching as he rubs at his wrists. “We should… go.”

Doc stares daggers up at Iskall, who waves back casually, one hand on his chin. There’s a long, drawn-out moment as they stare at each other, professional to professional.

Doc sighs, patting Scar on the back. “Fine. We’ve left the base unattended for too long, anyway.”

He walks away a few paces, then stops, lowering his sunglasses, eyes flickering like two burning embers as he locks eyes with Iskall again. “Make sure you don’t doze off on the job, though.”

Iskall grins, all teeth and no smile as the moonlight glints off his eyeplate. “No need to worry about that, Doc.  _ I don’t sleep. _ ”

“See you later, boys!!!” False calls, grinning and waving as she makes her way to the door. “ _ Don’t come back! _ ”

It occurs to Iskall as he watches the pair slink away, utterly humiliated, that he and False could probably add a bit more insult to injury if they wanted. Really jeer those people out of town.

But the evening has only just started, and his contract is most certainly  _ not _ just for threatening men in suits, not hardly.

He takes another sip from his thermos, pockets his trusty laser pointer, and awkwardly hits the button on his earpiece with his shoulder to make contact with Cleo again.

“All right, that takes care of the suits,” he says, settling back into position. “Now, get me a readout on our, ah,  _ other _ visitors?”

It’s gonna be a good night.


	5. internal memo (2.18)

Format - handwritten memo from General Kakujo, left pinned to a corkboard in the break room of Area 77. The handwriting is neat, if a little hasty-looking.

 _Welp, this has been a long time coming. I think it’s probably pretty obvious, but I’m not on-campus right now. Sorry if I’m leaving you in the lurch, it’s just that this is_ _really_ _important._

 _I don’t talk a lot about where I came from (for reasons that are sort of maybe a bit obvious) but there’s one thing that I know I can - and_ _should_ _\- tell you._

 _There’s someone who’s a constant wherever I go. I don’t know if he’s following me, or I’m unwittingly following him, or our destinies are intertwined or whatever, but I know_ _for a fact_ _he’s here, somewhere in/on this server._

 _I may act like I know my stuff, and I do know a little, but this guy? He knows_ _way more_ _than I do. He might be able to figure out some of the things we’re all still puzzling over. Plus, I… need to catch up, coz it’s been a bit since we talked to each other. I don’t want him to think I hate him or something, haha._

_So… yeah. I’ll be back in probably a couple days, don’t freak out, I’m really hard to kill. You guys had everything on lock before I came here and I have no doubt you’ll continue to be good at doing stuff and things._

_Signed, General Kakujo._

_PS - if you see a scruffy-looking butcher villager with pale skin and dark circles under his eyes,_ _contact me_ _. If you can’t, then you might wanna freak out. Just a little, not a lot._

_PPS - Ed, I get the feeling you’re reading this. I’ll see you soon, old friend._

Memo ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's that, folks! this was uploaded to AO3 on 02/09/2021, and took about half an hour of editing (i'm getting faster at it! well, that and these are very short segments). as usual, if you want to catch up to the whole of the 77-2 AU now, all current fics are accessible on my Tumblr (@betweenlands) along with some other bonus content.
> 
> this marks the end of the first set of minifics, and that means that next up is the mainseries fic "ripples, like branches"! fair warning - R,LB marks the point in time where these fics start getting LONG, like decently sized slash over fifty pages on Google Docs long. not only will it take a while to upload, it will ALSO probably take me a while to work up the energy TO upload it, because formatting it's gonna be a doozy for sure. (for example - the stuff you saw in "a brief aside" makes a reappearance, and it's pretty obnoxious to format.)
> 
> thanks so much for reading this! as per my usual sign-off: be gay do minecraft!


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